Legal Disclaimer and whatnot: I don't own Kim Possible; Disney does. If I did, Bob and Mark would still be working for Disney, Kim Possible would have a fifth season and, maybe, a live action movie or two. While I'm on the subject, there are a number of cartoons that were put down by the infamous 65 limit which I'd like to re-instate and stop some of the stuff that's on now – you know, the one with the singing…Oy I'm ranting. Okay, enough of that – now, on to the story.

Author's Note: This story takes place between the team's first mission at Paisley's mansion and Tick-Tick-Tick. Kim and Ron are in their freshman year. Also, the dialog that's in italics is what the person is thinking.

Many, many thanks to cpneb for his beta-ing and helping me get this story into Fanficition.

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Second Mission, Second Thoughts

Chapter 1: Daymare

The low droning of the Lockheed L-100C's four propellers sounded incessantly throughout the cargo hold that Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable occupied. The old style cargo plane was the civilian version of the C-130 Hercules and was built mainly for hauling loads, not passengers, especially 13- year-old ones. Because of this, Kim and Ron were relegated to the cramped cargo hold during the flight; much of the area was filled with general store supplies and small tools. Most of the freight was packed in regulation cargo boxes of various sizes and loaded and strapped down by cargo nets, on either side of the plane, creating a narrow aisle down the middle.

Kim seated herself on the makeshift cloth seats next to the cockpit, as there were no real passenger seats. The pilot's dog, a Jack Russell Terrier with one eye covered by an eye patch, laid in the other set of seats. Ron wanted to ask about the dog, but decided against it – being in a strange place and the eye patch unnerved him. However, he had taken a liking to both Kim and Ron, which eased Ron's nervousness but it elevated slightly when the canine sniffed suspiciously at Ron's pocket.

She focused on her English homework despite the buzz of the engines and the unusual seating arrangements. The pilot, Mr. Cutter, had offered earplugs in case the engine noise was too much for them. Kim was glad he offered them; it helped her concentrate on her assignment and at the rate she was going, she would be finished an hour into the flight.

Ron, on the other hand, decided to put off the assignment until after the 'trip' – the noise was just too much to do any homework even with earplugs – at least that's what he reasoned. Since there wasn't room for the two of them on the cloth seats, Ron, being the gentleman, gave Kim the 'comfy' seats. He really wanted to seat himself next to his best friend, especially in a place such as this, but couldn't because the dog wouldn't let him. So Ron made due by sitting on a small couch made of sacks of flour wedged between two large crates. It was tolerable, but he could sprawl out if he wanted to. It took little effort on his part – he had to only to rearrange two of the bags to get the desired effect; that, and it was much better than sitting on the floor or on a box. One drawback, sans the need for good cushions, was that the crates blocked his view of Kim unless he leaned out into the aisle. Another was that it was noisier here, being closer to the engines, even with earplugs.

Once settled in, Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleeping naked mole rat. Rufus had grown a little since Ron first got him a few months back – being longer and leaner now. He also was more active than when he first got him. However, Rufus had eaten a huge chunk of cheddar, to Ron's parents' dismay, just before they had left, and he was sleeping it off. Rufus slowly came out of his slumber, stretching and yawning with a mouth that seemed to open much larger than his head. The naked mole rat smacked his lips as he looked around. Seeing nothing of interest, he scampered up to Ron's shoulder. Pulling out an earplug, he squeaked "There yet?"

"Not yet," Ron replied.

Rufus frowned at Ron and then crossed his arms. "Humph," he huffed.

"Sorry, little buddy, I was just checking up on you…You okay?"

Rufus' frown soon faded and was replaced by a small smile. Giving him the naked mole rat version of a "thumbs up", Rufus raced back down to the pants pocket, relishing the warmth and comfort. Sleep would soon claim him despite the engine noise.

The blonde teen chuckled as soon as Rufus disappeared into his home away from home. "Yeah, it's probably better you stay there for now," Ron remarked quietly, "You don't wanna mess with that pilot's dog. Any dog that's got an eye patch has got to be tough."

Ron leaned over to check on the canine. He was still resting on the chairs but, somehow, noticed that he was being watched; his head popped up and returned an inquisitive glance. Ron smirked, not knowing what to think about the dog. He then gazed at his red-haired companion; she was still engrossed in her assignment.

Replacing the earplug, Ron settled back in and let his gaze wander as he didn't have a show to watch nor a game to play. After a few moments, it eventually settled on a large, plain crate labeled 'foodstuffs'. His eyes were focused on it but his mind wandered elsewhere.

"…We're worldwide baby," the blonde teen thought to himself. Images of that day at Mr. Paisley's mansion replayed in his head, ending with the same phrase. "…We're worldwide baby!"

"Maybe…I spoke too soon," he reasoned internally, "I mean, it's kind of fun going with Kim and helping people and stuff -- we've done it, like, what thirty or so times? Montana's not exactly worldwide…but it's not some far off place like Japan or Britain or France either. Though, it'd be cool to go there...But we're not on a sightseeing trip – it's another 'rescue mission'…Wait, when did these things become 'missions'?"

Ron frowned slightly, pondering over the question. After a few minutes, he reasoned, "I guess this is a mission – especially if this one is on a plane and out of state...and it's one of those cool cargo planes like in 'Covert Combat II…although I was thinking it would be a lot less noisy…and more comfy...and not so cold...a bag of peanuts would've been nice too..." He nestled in his couch and let loose a small sigh, "Yeah, CC II: good game – it would be so cool if I could of finished mission twelve before we left. Two weeks, and I still haven't finished it…"

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Ron closed his eyes and slowly drifted from here to an unfinished game of not so long ago. An observer's view of a dark olive C-130 Hercules flying just beneath the clouds and at night appeared in his mind's eye. Slowly as if in a movie, the first image faded and was replaced by one of the cargo hold's interior. There, Ron Stoppable appeared as a Special Forces soldier and was part of a team of like soldiers. All of them were dressed in full combat gear and made themselves busy with final preparations as they neared the target. Ron could somehow feel the plane rise, dip, and weave its way to the target. They must be getting close – the pilot was taking evasive maneuvers.

Radio chatter, the sounds of assault rifles being locked and loaded, and equipment straps being adjusted filled his ears. Ron felt like he should be doing the same – he did in the game – but here, he didn't, and he didn't know why. Instead, he put his hands on his knees, and rocking back and forth slightly, watched the other soldiers.

Another soldier, similarly dressed, suddenly appeared standing next to him. He was a mountain of man, having a frame much like Pain King or Steel Toe, and seemed to blot out much of the interior lighting. Ron couldn't see his face either; shadows obscured it. From what he could tell, this soldier seemed to be in charge of the operation. All of this unnerved the blonde teen.

"Stoppable," the lead soldier's deep voice boomed, "Are you ready?"

Ron wanted to but couldn't respond verbally. He only gulped and nodded a 'yes'. His fear rose.

Strangely, he could see a white grin appear on the 'faceless soldier'.

"Scared?" the soldier asked, his voice tinged with mockery.

Again, he gulped.

"Terrified," Ron squeaked, inching backwards.

Slowly and carefully, the commanding officer leaned in and then bellowed "SO WHY ARE YOU HERE?!?"

The blonde soldier opened his mouth to speak but before he could utter one word, there was flash of light and a thunderous roar – the plane had been hit! The craft shuddered and started to dive. Its occupants scrambled frantically from the gaping hole that replaced two commandoes. Wind rushed past him and out of the breech with a loud howl. Seemingly unfazed, the squad leader directed his attention on Ron, and to the blonde's surprise, the commander repeated, "WHY…ARE…YOU…HERE?"

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"I DON'T KNOW!" Ron exclaimed, as he shot up from his relaxed position and almost spilled out into the aisle. With eyes as wide as dinner plates, he scanned all about him. The soldiers and the hole had faded away to reveal the real cargo; the howling was silenced, only to be replaced by the sound of the cargo plane's engines – and Ron's gasping.

Rufus, who had shot out of his nesting place when Ron practically jumped out of his 'chair', raced to the top of an adjacent crate, looking around wildly and squeaking excitedly. Seeing nothing out of place, Rufus quickly quieted down and watched his human. Somehow, in the relatively short span of time he had known his human, the naked mole rat sensed that Ron was afraid of a number of things, but never saw his human panic like this.

The pilot's dog eyed the small pink mammal, but didn't act on it.

Ron blinked hard once, and then twice, and then a third and final time before the hyperventilation slowed enough for him to speak again. "I don't know…" he repeated softly.

He collapsed back onto the sacks. "I don't know…" he whispered, swaying ever so slightly back and forth. Rufus took it upon himself to crawl down onto Ron's shoulder and comfort him. "Poor Ron," Rufus squeaked, patting him on the head, "It's okay."

The blonde teen smiled at his faithful non-human best friend as he regained his composure. "Thanks buddy."

"No problem." Seeing that the episode had diffused itself, Rufus returned to his favorite nesting spot.

Leaning out into the aisle, Ron looked to his best friend to see if she had witnessed the ordeal. Kim seemed oblivious to it, pouring over her English assignment. Ron was stunned, shocked even, but then it came to him – the earplugs. He stared at her for a few minutes but it seemed as if they were hours.

Kim must have sensed something soon after that, as she looked up at her best friend.

'Are you okay?' she mouthed.

The blonde responded by smiling and giving her a 'thumbs up'.

The redhead smiled in return and after a few seconds returned to her English assignment.

Ron returned to his couch, but the smile melted away. He dropped his head into his hands and muttered, "So why am I here?"

The plane's monotonous roar was the only reply.

But a few minutes later, he reminded himself, "Because you were the one who helped get her here in the first place…"

To be continued…

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Chapter End Notes: This is my first story on Fanfiction. Like the series, I've incorporated some pop culture references – seven to be exact. Why? I'm quirky that way, and the series included them as well so I'm following suit. See if you can find them. The first is a dog – he does have a name. It's a tribute to an older show…Other than that I'm not sure what to say here other than this: Read and review – please and thank you.